


ribbons and lace (the look of love upon her face)

by greenconverses



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Porn Battle, Punk!Percy - Freeform, Shameless Smut, girly!annabeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 06:04:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenconverses/pseuds/greenconverses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Annabeth <i>would</i> be the type of person who had underwear with bows on them. </p>
<p>Written for the Porn Battle XV (The Ides of Porn). Prompt: Percy/Annabeth, tied with bows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ribbons and lace (the look of love upon her face)

The amount of deliberation and detail Annabeth Chase puts into every one of her outfits manages to astound Percy on a regular basis. Considering he regularly gets dressed by rolling out of bed and picking up whatever piece of clothing on floor doesn’t smell or have too many holes in it, the idea of assembling an outfit the night before or with a  _theme_  in mind is as alien of a concept as they come. He’s in college; he doesn’t  _need_  to look nice to suffer through English class.   
  
But Annabeth is a girl who enjoys her fashion and, even though it will never be something Percy understands, he is fervent admirer of how great she looks in those clothes. It was one of the things that drew him to her in the first place — her impeccable, prim appearance had begged to be mussed and untucked and pulled off, and he’d needed to be the one to do it. He’s learned to careful in subsequent mussing sessions, though; Annabeth’s a straight up priss if Percy manages to ruin parts of her outfit in his haste to get it off her, and there’s only so many times he can make her come before she stops complaining about her torn stockings.   
  
She chooses every piece for a reason, however ridiculous and minute it might be to him, and her enthusiasm for it can be catching. Not enough to get him to let her redo his wardrobe (the first thing she’s going to toss are his ratty motorcycle boots, he  _knows_  it), but he kinda gets a warm, mushy feeling in the deep parts of his chest that makes him want to kiss her and burrow into the sofa with her when she talks about it.   
  
Annabeth’s an incredibly fashionable dork, but a dork all the same, and Percy wouldn’t adore her half as much as he did if she wasn’t.   
  
Today, the centerpiece of her outfit has to be the lacy black bow in her hair, though he can’t imagine why she’s chosen it. It’s the darkest piece of clothing she’s worn in days; Annabeth has worn nothing but different shades of pinks, reds, and whites in honor of Valentine’s Day so far this month. It’s disgustingly cute, and aside from the bow, she’s continued that pattern with a pink shirt dress that is giving him all sorts of dirty ideas. Ideas that he helpfully whispers in her ear as Mr. Brunner drones on about the research papers that are due at the end of the month. She glares at him and he returns it with a wink, giving her a bow a playful tug, and pulls away, leaving her to squirm in her seat, cheeks flaming.  
  
It’s not until later, when they’re back at Annabeth’s dorm, and he has her bent over the edge of her bed, pulling that dress down her legs that he gets the connection.   
  
“You  _would_  have panties with bows on them, Chase,” he says, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of Annabeth’s ass in the lace black thong with it’s little pink bow on top. He smooths his hands over her bare cheeks, licking his lips with anticipation and wishing he’d decided against wearing the skinny jeans today.   
  
“Is that judgement or admiration I hear in your tone, Percy Jackson?” she asks, getting on to her knees. She glances over her shoulder at him and giving him a sultry smile.   
  
“Admiration,” he replies, dropping a kiss on the base of her spine, just above that pretty bow, before moving his mouth up notch by notch. “ _Definitely_ admiration.”   
  
His fingers settle over her lace covered center and begin to rub in slow circles. Annabeth’s breath hitches and her hips rock back against him, urging him on.   
  
“You,” she begins, swallowing heavily and laying her head in her arms, “you better not tear this pair, Percy, or so help me…”  
  
“Wouldn’t dream of it, babe,” he says, nipping playfully at her shoulder. He dips his thumb under the lace, dragging it through her slick folds until he reaches the nub of her clit. Annabeth’s back arches when he begins to circle it, her legs spreading wider for him. “Not when they make your ass look this good. And when you went through all the trouble to coordinate with your hair bow, too."  
  
The tail end of Annabeth’s muffled laugh comes out in a low, keening moan. His other hand busies itself with unclasping her bra and sliding around front, eagerly cupping her breast and massaging it thoroughly.  
  
“I — I didn’t realize you were paying so close attention to my sartorial choices,” Annabeth replies, voice tight with need and tension. “Aside from the length of my hemline, I —  _Percy_!”  
  
He smirks against her shoulder as she bucks forward, two of his fingers knuckle deep inside her. Annabeth’s gasp is sharp when he begins to move, and her hands clench the material of her simple gray comforter.   
  
“I must not have been working hard enough if you’re coherent enough to use words like  _sartorial_ ,” Percy whispers against the shell of her ear, twisting his fingers roughly. “I’m changing that right now.”  
  
“You don’t even know what it — oooh,  _fuck_!” Annabeth’s challenge dies with a high-pitched moan, the result of Percy’s thumb resuming work on her clit. “Right there, oh, yes…”  
  
He doesn’t stay where Annabeth wants for long, just long enough to tease her and give her a taste of the pleasure he has in store for her. But he’s not going to let her come until there’s a nice sheen of sweat on her body, ‘til her toes are curled and clenched with need as he fucks slow and nice with three of fingers stretching her; he’s going to suck bruises along her spine, leave love bites around her neck, and pinch and pull her nipples until they’re the same pretty pink as the dress she’d been wearing.   
  
When she comes at last, everything about her is exquisite, from her trembling limbs and arched back, to the muffled shriek of his name as she clenches around him, hot and wet. She’s sweet, too, when he pulls his hand away and sucks at his shiny fingers; he’d go down on her right this second, if his dick wasn’t throbbing in agonizing need.   
  
“Okay, Annabeth?” he asks, shucking his Ramones shirt off and beginning to work on the clasp of his studded belt.   
  
“Mmph hnngh,” Annabeth replies as she rolls over, bra askew on her heaving chest. Her hair is a mussed, golden cloud and — Percy notes with delight — the bow is still fixed, albeit crookedly, in her curls. “Your hands should be illegal.”  
  
“But then you wouldn’t get to enjoy them as much,” Percy says, hooking his thumbs in his boxers as he slides his pants over his hips. He lets out a sigh as his dick bobs free, and reaches the drawer of her bedside table where she keeps the condoms.  
  
He tosses a foil packet at her and nudges her to make room so he can climb on to her bed too. He can’t wait until he gets an apartment and can get a bed bigger than the dorm’s measly twin; Percy’s fallen off Annabeth’s bed more times than he cares to admit while attempting some new positions.   
Percy sits back against the headboard and reaches for Annabeth, who has devested herself of her bra and panties, and is finally,  _gloriously_ , naked. He kisses her deeply, letting her mouth swallow a moan as her delicate hands wrap around his dick and stroke him lightly for a few moments before she slips the condom on.   
  
Her legs bracket his hips and she guides him toward her entrance, but not before rubbing the head of his cock teasingly against her clit, something he’s sure is payback from earlier.   
  
“ _Annabeth_ ,” he growls, squeezing her ass and biting down on her collar bone.   
  
“Can dish it out, but can’t take it, huh?” Annabeth says with laugh, giving him a light squeeze he feels all the way to the back of his spine. But then she’s sinking on to him, inch by inch, and Percy buries his face in the crook of her neck because he can’t stand how good she feels, how much this is like coming home.   
  
Finally, he’s nestled deep inside her and she tilts his chin up so she can kiss him, and they stay like that for a while, kissing until they’re both trembling from the need to  _move_ , to make their way to completion. Percy lets her set the pace, and Annabeth’s hips start to rock, shallow at first, and then deeper once she’s got a comfortable rhythm. It’s not going to take much for him to come, not in this position, where every bit of Annabeth is pressed up against every bit of him.   
  
In moments like these, when she has her hands nestled in the mess of his mohawk, her forehead pressed against his and her gray eyes heavy and blown full of arousal, all her attention on him, Percy thinks he might just be a little bit in love with Annabeth Chase and all her fashionably dorky ways.   
  
Just a little bit.   
  
“Percy,” Annabeth breathes against his mouth, her lips trembling, “please.”  
  
He slips his hand between them, searching for her clit. She stiffens when he finds it, her rhythm becoming erratic as he moves his thumb against it again; she kisses him roughly, hips undulating into his and — and —   
  
Percy’s hand digs into her body as he comes hard, his vision blurring out as white hot pleasure sizzles throughout every nerve of his body, the sensation compounded tenfold as Annabeth clenches and trembles around him. Their moans mingle together in the humid air as Percy slumps against the headboard, his lips pressing heated against Annabeth’s neck as her movements slow and still completely.   
  
Annabeth frames his face in her hands and draws him into a languid, sated kiss, the kind that makes him think he’s probably more than just a little bit in love with her. She smiles shyly at him, ducking her head, and yeah, okay,  _definitely_  in love. He’ll have to tell her that soon. Maybe even (shudder) get a suit to celebrate the —   
  
“You’ve got your thinking look on your face,” Annabeth says quietly, stroking his cheek gently with her thumbs. “And I don’t know how that’s possible, since I’m pretty sure I fucked your brains out.”  
  
Percy lets out a bark of laughter. “If anyone’s brains got fucked out, it was  _yours_ , Miss  _Mmph Hnng_.”  
  
“I never said that,” she says, a blush staining her cheeks. “And don’t change the subject. What’s going on up there?”  
  
She taps her finger to his forehead, and he grabs it gently in his hand, lacing their fingers together. Percy could easily tell her now, about the whole being madly in love with her thing; she’s never said it to him, but he knows she wouldn’t put up with him tearing her beloved clothing (among other things) if she didn’t love him too. He doesn’t need a suit or a grand gesture to tell her, but he thinks she’d like it all the same.   
  
Instead, he gives her his usual smirk and leans forward to murmur, “Just thinkin’ about how you’re gonna clue me in the next time you have a pair of scandalous panties under your skirts.”  
  
Annabeth laughs and smacks him on the shoulder; he grabs that hand too and before he knows it, their lips are on each other’s again, playful kisses quickly turning into lingering, heated caresses and Percy’s rolling them over to —   
  
“ _Shit_!”  
  
He lands halfway off the bed in an undignified mess, staring up at Annabeth who is doing her best not burst into laughter. She fails, as always, and falls back onto the mattress, giggling uncontrollably.   
  
Maybe before he tells her Annabeth loves her, he decides then and there, he should focus on getting the two of them a bigger bed.


End file.
